


We Are Young

by DoctorRainyStardusttheThird (orphan_account)



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Drug Use, Fluff, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Other, Sherlolly - Freeform, lots of just drabbles and one-shots, poor old sherlock, sherlock and molly are so shy aw!, sherlock is mysterious and sexy, tags tags tags
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-21
Updated: 2018-07-21
Packaged: 2019-06-14 03:38:12
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 2,506
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15379830
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/DoctorRainyStardusttheThird
Summary: A series of scenarios where the Sherlock cast are all students at Cambridge University together. Sherlolly, Jary, Mystrade etc.Greg, Irene, Mary, John, Molly and Sherlock become the best of friends, taking on Sherlock's drug addiction, abusive father, previous abusive relationships, Molly's low-self esteem and anorexia, Greg's infatuation with Sherlock's brother, and John and Mary's relationship problems along the way.:)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> i have no idea where this came from, usually i don't write this kind of thing at all
> 
> but i hope you like it anyway?
> 
> comments, prompts and kudos all welcome xx

Sherlock Holmes.

John had never met the university genius before. Rumour had it the kid was only eighteen but had been here since he was sixteen or seventeen. Cambridge university was prestigious, and John had got in on the skin of his teeth – helped mainly by his prowess at rugby. They’d wanted him to play for the university.

It was lunchtime, and he’d just been eating lunch with his friends in a nearby Starbucks. Greg, Irene, Molly and his girlfriend Mary. They’d been chatting about inane stuff mostly, when a boy had entered – couple of years younger than them – ordered a coffee and sat at a nearby table.

He was working on his laptop, coffee abandoned next to him. The others didn’t see him, but he caught John’s eye.

He was a good looking boy. Like, model good looking. The kind of cheekbones you only see in magazines with ink-coloured curls cropped short at the sides that spilled over his forehead in a silky tangle. Tall, and skinny – John frowned; from a med student’s point of view, unhealthily skinny – the boy was light-skinned and dressed in a grey t-shirt and cracked Doc Martens.

John turned to see if his friends recognised him, but they were too intent on their coffee and chat. Irene was telling someone about a mishap during one of her photoshoots – how the male model had ‘accidentally’ slipped his number into her purse and she’d ‘accidentally’ mentioned how incredibly gay she was while he was on his way out. Irene was studying graphic design and photography and she had a camera phone she documented everything on that she guarded with her life.

By the time John and his friends had  left, the boy at the table behind had disappeared.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bit more for ya'll, hope you enjoy :)

The next time John saw Sherlock Holmes was when he was with Molly. He was walking his friend to her next class when a boy walked past them. Molly gave him a tentative smile.

The boy looked up. He seemed startled that Molly had noticed him. He seemed to smile without thinking about it, a quick, crooked grin, then he moved on without saying a word.

‘You know him?’ John said, once the boy was out of earshot.

‘Mm. That’s Sherlock. He’s studying chemistry too and I bump into him in the labs every once in a while.’

John studied her face closely. She was blushing – not unusual for Molly Hooper – and her eyes seemed bright as she glanced back over her shoulder to see where the boy had gone. ‘You like him.’

She ducked her head and looked bashful. ‘He’s younger than me.’

‘How much younger?’

‘Three years.’

John did the maths. ‘He’s eighteen? First year?’

‘Oh, no,’ Molly shook her head. ‘He’s been here a couple of years. Think he started early because he was so smart, or – or something.’

‘Must’ve started very early,’ John muttered.

‘Mm.’ They stopped outside the lab and Molly darted inside.

John watched her go. Molly needed a bit more confidence in herself. The last person she’d dated had been a guy named Jim Moriarty. John didn’t know much about the relationship – it had been very brief, a couple of years back. Molly had ended it.

‘He kept calling my cat by the wrong name, and he didn’t like _Glee,_ ’ she’d said, shrugging.

She’d also had a drunken one-night stand with a guy called Tom, but she never talked about that.

But John pictured Molly’s smile when she’d seen Sherlock. He figured dating a hot younger student might be just what she needed for a confidence boost.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> sorry the chapters are so short, but here you go xx

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> btw:
> 
> sherlock = bi  
> molly = straight  
> irene = gay  
> john = bi  
> greg = gay  
> mycroft = ace but homoromantic  
> moriarty = bi  
> mary = straight
> 
> hope that cleared things up :)

The group were sprawled out on the grass out the front of the university. Irene was on her phone, and Greg and Molly were trying to ignore Mary and John enthusiastically making out next to them.

They were close to the iron railings. A massive Harley motorbike was leaned against them. John caught Greg looking at it enviously every once in a while. The group of friends watched curiously as a tall, thin student made his way down the road, arguing loudly with someone on his phone.

‘I’ll come my own way, Mycroft. I don’t need you to –‘

John recognised the boy as Sherlock. In the sunlight, his black hair looked almost blue. He moved off, and made to drive away on the large Harley when a black car with tinted windows slid in front, effectively cutting him off.

A man of about mid-to-late twenties got out. He wore a three-piece suit complete with a watchchain and carried an umbrella.

‘Get in the car, brother mine,’ he said, sighing. ‘You are not riding one of those death traps. I forbid it.’

‘Piss off, Mycroft,’ Sherlock said.

Mycroft raised an eyebrow. ‘Get in, brother dear. I know where to find your violin…’

The boy huffed and swung into the car. It drove swiftly away.

John looked back to see Molly with that same wistful expression on her face, watching the car go.

‘You do! You do like him!’ John said triumphantly.

‘Like who?’ Mary said curiously. She and John were both studying medicine and had been dating several years now. It was a good relationship – they’d had their bumps along the way, of course, but mostly they were okay.

‘Greg, make him stop teasing me,’ Molly whined, giving Greg a shove.

‘Huh?’

‘God, you’re hopeless.’


	4. Chapter 3

Finally, John had made up his mind.

He was in the library a week or so later when he saw the boy – Sherlock – stand up and grab his things. However, as he made to leave, another student stood up and they collided. Sherlock dropped his both laptops and several folders of notes across the floor.

John recognised the student as Philip Anderson. He was an arsehole. He was studying forensics and John had run into him a couple of times.

‘Watch where you’re going, freak,’ he said, annoyed.

Then he strode off.

Sherlock bent down and began to collect his things. No one else offered to help him. John felt a stab of pity – Anderson’s reaction had been quite uncalled for, especially as – from what John had seen – it had been mostly his fault anyway.

John walked over.

‘Hey, you need any help with that?’

Sherlock looked up. Most people would have just seen a short, well-built student with kind blue eyes offering to help pick up their stuff, out of decency. But Sherlock was not most people.

‘What?’

‘Do you need any help?’

Sherlock was confused as to why a random stranger would offer to help him, but who  cared.

‘Uh – yeah, can I borrow your phone?’

‘Oh – well, that’s not really – yeah, sure, I guess,’ John said, disconcerted.

‘Oh.’ Sherlock seemed surprised he’d said yes. ‘Thank you.’

He took the phone, punched in a number, then sent a text, fingers flying across the keys. He handed it back to John silently, then gathered up his stuff.

‘Hey, I just – wondered if you wanted to eat lunch with my friends today, you know – if you don’t have plans,’ John said, before he could leave. He was partly asking on Molly’s behalf, but also because this dark-haired smart kid intrigued him.

Sherlock raised a practised eyebrow. ‘Really?’ He sounded sceptical.

‘Yeah,’ John said, hoping he wouldn’t have to give a reason. He didn’t know what impulse had grabbed him in that moment, but what the hell.

Sherlock snorted. ‘You haven’t heard anything about me, then.’ He had a nice voice – low and quiet, like he didn’t see the point in shouting to get his point across, unlike some of John’s dickhead mates on the rugby team.

‘Um – no, not really?’

‘Then why –‘

‘No reason,’ John interrupted. He felt embarrassed now. ‘Never mind.’

‘No, I’ll come,’ Sherlock said. ‘I guess. Maybe. Where?’

‘The Starbucks on the corner, in a couple of hours.’

Sherlock fixed him with an odd stare for a moment – almost as if he was reading him. ‘I’ll come if I’m not busy,’ he said.

‘Okay,’ John muttered, as Sherlock strode off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hope you liked it! comment xx


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> longer one this time! :)

John had almost forgotten about his invitation by the time his friends were all sitting at their usual table in the Starbucks.

He ordered his usual latte, then went back to flirting with Mary. Greg was looking thoughtful.

‘Something on your mind, Greg?’ Irene said.

‘No, not really.’

Irene rolled her eyes and went back to texting. She photographed her cup from a couple of different angles before taking a sip. Molly giggled a little, watching her.

Suddenly, a voice interrupted them. ‘Uh – hi.’

John spun round. ‘Hi,’ he said, ‘oh – you came.’

‘ _You_ invited me,’ Sherlock pointed out.

John grinned. ‘I did,’ he conceded. ‘Sure, sit.’

Sherlock put down his coffee. He hadn’t brought any food. He didn’t acknowledge anyone else at the table. They watched him uncertainly for a moment.

‘Hello, Sherlock,’ Molly said nervously.

He glanced up and gave her a fleeting smile. ‘Molly Hooper, yeah?’

Molly nodded, then gulped her coffee. Unfortunately, it was scalding hot and she choked. Greg thumped her on the back and when she finally emerged from her coughing fit, she was beet red. Sherlock looked vaguely amused.

‘Nice to meet you, Sherlock,’ Mary said, to ease Molly’s embarrassment.

Irene leant forward. ‘Sherlock Holmes…I remember you!’

Sherlock went slightly pink.

John looked between Sherlock and Irene. ‘You two…know each other?’

‘Oh, yeah,’ Irene said. ‘He modelled for a project I did a couple of years back. We got quite…close.’

Sherlock lounged back. It was difficult to decide if he was shy or aloof.

‘Close,’ Greg repeated. He knew full well that close had a different meaning when it came to Irene.

‘It was while I was still questioning,’ she told him.

‘Sherlock?’ Molly said. ‘Aren’t you going to do it?’

‘Do what?’ he said.

‘You know…your…’ she dipped her head bashfully. ‘Your deduction thing.’

Sherlock glanced at her.

‘What, you mean that thing he does where he reads you?’ Irene said.

‘You want me to do that?’ Sherlock said, sounding mildly incredulous.

‘Go on, it’s really clever,’ Irene urged. She smiled. ‘Brainy is the new sexy.’

Sherlock cleared his throat and made an ‘at your own peril’ face. ‘Um…you two –‘ he pointed at John and Mary, ‘have been dating for nearly three years, and both study medicine, although you –‘ he pointed to Mary, ‘study at a lower level than John. John, rugby player, alcoholic brother, considering military service to help pay off student loans, unconditional offer to play for Cambridge’s team…you missed breakfast this morning, so you went to the vending machine…you’ve recently started cycling in, so you didn’t have time…’

He swivelled round and looked at Greg. ‘Crime,’ he decided after a moment. ‘You’re thinking about…Scotland Yard, is it? Bisexual, recently ended a relationship after you found out she was dating one of his –‘ he pointed to John –‘teammates, the barista today liked you and gave you her number you were considering calling her, but you’re not interested anymore - you ordered a different coffee to your usual order, because you didn’t get enough sleep tonight due to your piling coursework and you –‘

‘Hang on,’ Mary put up a hand. She shut her eyes. ‘Hang on, just – just stop.’

Sherlock’s expression dulled, and he made to go, but John pulled him back. ‘That – was…amazing.’

Sherlock looked shocked for a moment, before a casual expression swept over his face. Even so, he couldn’t hide a flicker of pleasure. ‘You think so?’

‘Yes,’ John said with finality. Greg was nodding too, looking incredulous. ‘It was amazing, it was fantastic, it was…incredible.’

Sherlock looked at him like he was an interesting chemical reaction. ‘Hm,’ he said after a pause. ‘That’s not what people normally say.’

‘What do people normally say?’ Irene chipped in.

‘Piss off, usually.’

Molly sipped her coffee, watching Sherlock from under her eyelashes.

‘How did you _do_ that?’ Greg said in disbelief. ‘Did you research us?’

‘Of course not, I didn’t even know I was going to be meeting you,’ Sherlock finally took a sip of coffee, then made a face. He smirked. ‘I merely observed.’

‘He did that to me, the first time he met me,’ Molly said shyly. ‘It was amazing. He told me I used to do ballet, and that I had an older sister who lived in America, and that my father died of cancer when I was small.’

‘Sorry about that, Molly,’ Sherlock said. He sounded sincere. ‘I have been informed that was rude.’

Molly gave a small smile. ‘I slapped him,’ she admitted. ‘But it was nice. You know. To be noticed.’

Irene leaned back. ‘He did it to me too,’ she said, smiling over the top of her mug. ‘I was trying to get him to sleep with me, and he told me about all the people I’d previously slept with and called me a walking STI.’

Sherlock looked uncomfortable while the rest of the table roared with laughter.

‘You still haven’t told us how you do it though,’ Greg said. ‘How’d you know about the barista?’

‘Your napkin,’ Sherlock said, and Greg looked at it. ‘She wrote her number on it – you kept it even after you spilt coffee on it, suggests you were interested – but you used it to blow your nose as I headed over to the table, suggests you’re not that interested after all.’

Greg looked like he’d been hit in the face with something hard. ‘How’d you know I changed my order?’

‘You put four sugars into your coffee, far more than someone generally would – this suggests the coffee is stronger than you usually have it, or you would’ve adjusted your regular order so you didn’t use as much sugar – this also indicates little sleep – that and the large amount of notes in your back and the fact you’re wearing the same shirt as yesterday.’

Greg opened his mouth then shut it again.

‘Did I get anything wrong?’ Sherlock asked.

‘Um…my alcoholic sibling –‘ John said.

‘- Harry,’ Sherlock interjected. ‘The engraving on your phone.’

‘Yes – she’s my sister, not my brother. Harry is short for Harriet.’

Sherlock looked put out. ‘There’s always something – I’m never right about everything.’

 _‘I_ was right,’ Irene said, winking. ‘Brainy is the new sexy.’

Sherlock didn’t return her wink. Instead he looked at Molly, who flushed.

‘So, what are you studying?’ Greg said.

‘Chemistry, computer science – I’m doing a diploma in music on the side.’

‘Impressive,’ Mary said. ‘And you’re, what, twenty?’

‘Eighteen,’ Sherlock said, ‘a month ago.’

‘What do you want to do?’

‘I’m thinking of going into the care industry. I reckon I’m wasting these great people skills.’

They stared at him blankly for a second.

He sighed. ‘Not really.’

He seemed stupefied when they laughed.

‘So what do you really want to do?’ Greg said. ‘Forensic analyst?’

The shutters came down in Sherlock’s eyes. ‘No doubt I’ll be going into the family business.’

‘Oh yeah?’ Greg said. ‘And what’s that?’

‘Secret service,’ Sherlock replied, deadpan.

There was a pause. ‘Oh…not joking,’ Mary said.

‘No.’

**Author's Note:**

> hope you liked it!


End file.
